


things change.

by Anonymous



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, no beta. we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: one day, the rift between the two agents will come to a close.
Relationships: Mikage Hisoka/Utsuki Chikage
Kudos: 10
Collections: Anonymous





	things change.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, quinn!! i really hope you like this fic (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)
> 
> follow quinn on [twitter](https://twitter.com/00_arlequin)! their art is really good, they're an absolute god

_“...Fine. I’ll go with you.”_

When April had first heard those words, he thought it was a stupid joke. Surely the man wasn’t serious about his decision to join the Organization. After August’s repeated attempts at coercing the sleepy stranger to join, it was the sweet delicacies that would get him to join. Not a very powerful incentive, April thought, for a man who looks as lost as the snow-haired stranger. While such things would work for a short period of time, what would motivate the latter when faced with the responsibility of being a secret agent?

“You can’t be serious,” April sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to let him in, just like that? Last I remember, you advised against taking in random recruits.”

The gentle chuckle he received in response was slightly aggravating, but he paid it no attention as he side-eyed the third party, who didn’t seem to care as much about being taken in by two random strangers. On the contrary, the man continued to partake of the gingerbread, willingly following him and August without much thought.

At the time, April came to believe it wasn’t survival that saved the man from death; it was pure luck, and nothing else.

By the way the sweets-loving recruit ignored all of his words, April knew he would grow to loathe him.

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

* * *

_“If we work together, we’d make the greatest team.”_

No one’s ever reached out to him like that before. The most anyone else ever did was leave him a fraction of their spare change, which could only get him so far. Money wasn’t all that important to a person such as himself, a man who cared little for material gain or financial status. Even if he did, his current predicament wouldn’t allow him anywhere near a regular lifestyle ever again. His fate was sealed; he would live on the streets for the rest of his days until the Grim Reaper arrived at his front door—or rather, right in front of him, given he has no shelter to take refuge in.

The sweet taste of the brown cookie lured him away from such a train of thought, and he agreed to the stranger’s offer without taking anything into consideration. Something about the taste - no, the warmth - of the seemingly normal delicacy made him crave more. With each bite came a feeling of love and care, as every baked good should have. This stranger’s baking, however, was different—there was something more to it that he couldn’t quite point out. It wasn’t the sugar alone or the method of baking that was used; it was something that came from the heart.  
  
That “something” was what he needed in his life, and the kind stranger could provide him with that.

So, he went along with the two strangers; one of them with the warmest of hearts, and the other a bespectacled menace. A “family”, the kind man had called them. The three of them were now a family.

Although, the ordeal would’ve made him happier if the man with glasses hadn’t been there.

“He’s definitely going to be useless.”

If he had the energy, he would’ve stuck his tongue right at the meanie himself. Ignoring him was his other option, one which he would gladly take. Words of doubt fell to deaf ears—the ears of a snow-haired outcast who only sought for more of those sweet cookies.

“...Could I get another one of those... whatever it’s called-”

“Gingerbread! That’s what it’s called,” the kind stranger laughed, placing in his hands the so-called gingerbread. “It’s what families usually eat together on Christmas. Tastes good, right?”

The man’s laughter… It brought warmth to his heart, just like the gingerbread did. With a gentle nod of approval, he devoured the treat in his hands, and in a matter of seconds, it was gone. He’d never had something this sweet before, since there was nothing for him to buy any sort of pastries with. But now… Now, he could.

“This is a terrible idea…” April watched as the snow-haired man lit up in joy, the only cause for that being the gingerbread. “If his only motivation is gingerbread, then-”

“...You’re too noisy.”

The bespectacled man looks at him with a mix of irritableness and disdain.

“What did you just say?”

No response was given, as he’d already planned. Instead, he continued to munch on the wonderful gingerbread in his hands, ignoring the quiet complaints of the stranger he deemed to be a menace.

* * *

“Welcome back, December.”

“...Hey.”

Seldom did the two ever truly converse until August came back from his own personal antics. The only thing to fill the silence was the clacking of laptop keys, or the nagging of a certain grumpy agent. The occasional argument would also make the environment of the hideout a bit more lively, although not without stirring up more trouble than a certain someone would like. August kept on insisting that they get along and put aside their differences, but how could they? There was a stark difference between their personalities, and the only thing that came out of trying to understand each other was bickering, bickering, and more bickering.

April’s nitpicky attitude and meticulousness irritated December. On the other hand, December’s tendency to be heedless and lackadaisical irritated April.

Two agents on two opposite sides of the spectrum, with no middle ground in sight. They were close, yet distant. There would be no surprise if it remained that way for the rest of their lives. Besides, the only thing holding them together was August and the Organization itself. For the Organization, they had to work together and ensure that no one died at any costs. At the time, it wasn’t too evident, seeing that they had much more important matters to deal with.

_“Get along, okay? That’s how we’ll become an even better team.”_

...In the end, all of August’s optimism went to waste, and the rift between the two finally revealed its presence.

* * *

It’d been two years since August’s death, and neither of the two had quite moved on from the incident at the cliff. Each of them had their own burdens to carry, with one party being just as stubborn as the other. Despite having made up, they grew distant, and Hisoka quickly came to question the existing bond between them. Of course, it probably wasn’t a strong one to begin with. August was the main link holding their family of three together, after all. Following his death, nothing but chaos ensued. It was evident by the events that followed, with the Director being kidnapped and Hisoka having to step in to quell Chikage’s nerves. Built upon a pile of misunderstandings, the relationship between Chikage and Hisoka was quite a complicated one to explain.

Had it not been for August’s wish, who knows where the two would be in the present day. Alive? Dead? The world will never know.

Such were the thoughts which lingered in Hisoka’s mind as he sought comfort under the covers of his own bed, Penpen held snugly to his chest. It wasn’t odd for the Winter Troupe member to doze off to sleep at odd hours of the day, but to shelter himself in his room for the past few days was strange, indeed. Not only that, but the bag of marshmallows Homare bought for him at the beginning of the week vanished without a trace, only to be found empty in the trash can a day or two later. As solitary as the man seemed, such behavior was quite odd.

No one other than his own troupe came to check up on him, and even then, he was given much more space than he’d like. That was what he wanted, right? To be left alone with his own thoughts; thoughts about what life would've been like. A world where August was still alive, bringing a bit of light to his otherwise dull life…

That world sounded like a great one, alright.

Oddly enough, acceptance and denial went hand-in-hand—accepting August’s death came with denial of how he himself should feel. He felt that he was in no right to move on so easily, despite August wishing for such a thing, whilst also wishing for the unseen barrier between him and April - no, Chikage - to disappear. Of course, that would never happen, as far as he knew. He could settle with this, though. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was better than nothing. Social interaction wasn’t needed to assure the other’s safety, and besides, it wasn’t like anything bad could go wrong.

But… it never hurt to sneak in a glance or two. You know, just to check for signs of discontent or anything. Nothing much, really.

It still made things awkward, though. Yeah, they still talked like normal friends, and maybe he might’ve been overthinking, but still. The bitter sentiment still remained, regardless of how much he tried to reassure himself. Although, all things fade with time, and it’ll surely be the same for him-

*Knock, knock.*

Interrupting his thoughts were two loud raps to the door, both of which were completely uncalled for. As far as he knew, the rest of Winter Troupe was out for a drinking party, himself having been excused through feigned illness. So, the only person who’d choose to visit him would be none other than...

“I’m coming in.”

The visitor’s arrival came unannounced, and standing in the doorway was none other than Chikage. In his hand was a bag of marshmallows; more specifically, Hisoka’s favorite brand. He entered rather silently; the door behind him closed with a quiet click. 

“Everyone’s worried, you know,” sighed Chikage, staring up at Hisoka, whose back faced him. “It’s not like you to act like this.”

“Act… like what?” Hisoka rolled around to look at the visitor.

“Not going outside. Barely interacting with anyone else. Pretending to be sick. You rarely do that in the first place, but you’re doing much less than before. Care to explain?”

No response.

“Get down here. I’ll feed you some marshmallows if you give me answers,” Chikage said, waving the bag in his hand. There’s nowhere else to sit but the chair located in the center of the room, where he ends up doing just that. 

“But I want to stay up here,” Hisoka mumbled, shifting a bit so that the front of his body was closer to the bed’s guardrail. He opened and closed his mouth, all while staring in Chikage’s direction with his usual, tired gaze. “Aah.”

“...You’re really going to make me toss them into your mouth. While you’re up there.”

“Mhm,” mumbled Hisoka as he repeated the same gesture, to which Chikage reacted to with a deep sigh. At least that part of him didn’t change.

“Fine. I’m the one that decided to intrude, after all.”

With a sigh, Chikage flicked the first marshmallow into Hisoka’s mouth, to which the other ate without hesitation.

“Did I do anything to make you uncomfortable?” he asked, gently squishing a marshmallow between his fingers. “You’ve been distant towards me lately. Not like you haven’t been that way, but… my point still stands.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Hisoka mumbled in response, hugging Penpen a bit tighter than before. The small gesture doesn’t go unnoticed, but no one chose to point it out. “You’re probably overthinking things again.”

The bespectacled man looked up at Hisoka to observe his reaction, and it’s just as he expected. His answer was followed with a bitter, melancholic silence, and the look in his eyes reflected the same emotion as the air around him. It was just as Homare told him a while back, about the time when Hisoka’s memory was zilch. He isolated himself as a means of running away from the sadness that plagued his thoughts, sleeping to enter a world where he would have to feel no suffering or pain.

Something about this scenario convinced Chikage that this was exactly the case.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one doing that this time around,” Chikage replied, a semblance of a smile on his features. Despite the obvious lie, he still opted to feed the other a marshmallow. Perhaps it was because this interaction felt familiar; bitterly so. Something inside him made him want to ask no further; to ask the next day, or the day after that. At the same time, however… things might not turn out to be what he expected. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, though.”

He stood up and didn’t bother to say much else, instead making his departure by walking over to the door with silent strides.

“...I’ll be back later.”

With that, the door opened and closed, and the visitor disappeared as silently as he came. He wouldn’t return for the next few days.

-

_“Gingerbread cookies take time to bake, and time isn’t something I really have... So, that’s why I’ve decided to feed him marshmallows instead! They’re lightweight, easy to carry around, and one bag has a whole ton of them. Smart move, right?”_

Just as expected, nothing changed. Hisoka continued to spend most of his time in the comfort of his dorm room. As per Chikage’s request, Homare wasn’t in the room when he arrived, the same two knocks to the door signaling his arrival. 

“I’m coming in. Again.” In Chikage’s hands was a box with the bakery’s logo stamped on top, and the scent that came from it was enough to catch Hisoka’s attention.

Of course, the latter made an attempt to hide his restlessness by moving ever so slowly, turning around to look at Chikage through the bars of the guardrail. He couldn’t catch sight of the basket’s contents, but the fragrant odor was a huge hint in itself.

“...Why are you trying so hard?” Hisoka muttered, staring at the other with tired eyes. Slowly, he sat upright and looked at the basket, still refusing to meet Chikage’s gaze.

Chikage first responded with a sigh and went to the center of the room, where he placed the basket on the table and took a seat.

“You’ve been holed up in this room for days, and everyone’s worried for you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m worried for you. Now, are you going to come down or not? I brought these for a reason.”

Naggy as always. Hisoka obliged, and climbed down from the loft bed to make his way to the center of the room. He takes the seat opposite of Chikage, and partakes of the basket’s contents. The contents in question are gingerbread cookies, which to Hisoka’s surprise, happen to be fresh out of the oven.

“Could be sweeter, but...” was the first thing Hisoka said after taking a bite of the cookie. He didn’t sound displeased, though. Rather, he sounded happier than he was a few moments ago, and a trace of a smile appeared on his face, only for it to disappear, as if it never existed to begin with. A gingerbread cookie, filled with the same warmth that August’s had, baked by none other than the man seated in front of him. The thought was somewhat odd, but… it was a nice thing to ponder over. “...It tastes good.”

Of all things, Chikage decided to offer him gingerbread cookies—the one thing that acted as a symbol of what used to be their pretend family. Although they weren’t as sweet as August made them… It’s the thought that mattered the most. Mind him, Chikage was never fond of baking. For the latter to go out of his way to do something like this was more of a surprise than the gingerbread itself...

“That’s the first thing you had to say?” Chikage scoffed, leaning forward in his seat. He didn’t sound offended, contrary to his own words. He sounded quite happy, even. 

“...This is just like the time we first met,” Hisoka mumbled, completely ignoring the question being asked. He took another gingerbread cookie from the basket and nibbled at it. “We hated each other… Yeah.”

The latter merely listened, not saying a word as Hisoka kept on mumbling. Whether it was directed at himself or Chikage would be up for debate.

“It was because of August that we got used to each other. But he’s the only reason why we’re on good terms… Right?” Hisoka looked down at the floor and took another quick bite of the gingerbread. “And even then… there’s always going to be this gap between us.”

“Well… That could change.”

“...Oh.”

In the middle of taking another bite, Hisoka froze, with Chikage’s words catching him off guard. He looked up, into the other man’s eyes, with a semblance of incredulity in his expression. Did he hear that correctly? Was there hope for him after all? He slowly munched on the treat in his hands for a few moments in silence, the latter not seeming to mind at all.

In fact, Chikage was more than relieved. All this time, he believed the issue to be much worse—at some point, he was almost convinced the sudden change in behavior had something to do with the Organization. But feelings… Those were things he was never quite good at understanding, he had to admit.

“The past is the past, Hisoka. Things change,” he began, trying to hide his look of relief. “August may have held us together before, but… well, that’s in our hands now.”

Looking down at the basket filled with gingerbread cookies, Chikage decided to take one, but did nothing else to the treat as it rested in his hand. There was an obvious look of hesitation in his eyes, but Hisoka said nothing as he finally raised the cookie to his lips and took a gratuitous bite. The sweet taste of the gingerbread was still something he would never get used to. This amount of sweetness was tolerable, though. He wiped a few stray crumbs from the corners of his mouth and looked at Hisoka, who was still silent. So… he’d need to take the initiative this time around.

“To be honest, I’m not that great with these kinds of problems. Feelings… aren’t exactly my thing. I know I’m not a carbon copy of August, but...” He stood up and walked over to where Hisoka sat. There wasn’t much else he could do, if he had to be honest, but he would have to try something; anything. And so, he gave the other man a gentle flick to the forehead. “...I promised I’d always protect you, didn’t I? So stop worrying so much. I’ll find a way - no, we’ll find a way to make it work somehow. Together.”

Hisoka flinched at the sudden gesture and pouted a little as he let out a frustrated sigh—there was no way for him to get around Chikage, was there? As August said, he was way too observant for his own good. But maybe… Maybe it was for their own good. At the thought, he smiled, for what seemed to be the first time in weeks.

“...Together, huh. That sounds nice.”

* * *

“I ate one, too. Now we’re even, right?” Chikage mused, with the faint trace of a smile on his visage. Surely this was something he could do to lighten the mood. It was reminiscent of something he’d said before, although he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“...July 18th.”

“What?”

“It was July 18th when you said something like that,” said Hisoka, smiling as he fiddled around with what remained of the gingerbread cookie. “I still remember.”

“That memory must’ve meant a lot to you, then.”

“...Yeah. It did.”

**Author's Note:**

> i barely had any time to write this fic on time because i had a whole bunch of work to speed through for the past two weeks... but it's done!! just on time! (╥_╥)


End file.
